The Way is the Goal
by Shiyaki
Summary: A collection of oneshots about what happened prior to, inbetween and after the happenings of 'Poison'.


**Disclaimer: **I own neither Harry Potter nor The Hobbit and I don't earn any money with this story.

**Author's note**: Poison turned out different than what I had planned, why wouldn't the pairing? In poison it was supposed to be Elrond x Harry… yeah, didn't happen. This time you'll be a bit closer to knowing just _who_se offspring Eiren is.

**Rating: T**

**Warning: **pre-slash, future mpreg

* * *

"Are you going to stand there all day?"

Harry turned the page of the book he was currently perusing, but his attention had long since shifted to the person standing in the doorway of the library. If war hadn't taught him how to notice the distinct feeling of being watched, then Middle Earth with all its dangerous creatures would have done the job.

**Constant Vigilance!**

And all that.

It had certainly saved his life more than once.

The brunet caught a deep chuckle, followed by the barely audible rustling of cloth – the only indication of movement. Seconds later the person stepped close enough to be visible in his peripheral vision and Harry was, yet again, unbelievably thankful to Gandalf for fixing the blurry mess that had been his eyesight.

Finally foregoing the pretence of reading, the wizard focused his gaze on the male elf and eyed him unashamedly. He was tall and wore his dark, straight hair long and in braids– like just about every elf Harry'd ever encountered, especially in Imladris. If not for the eyes, the male next to him would have been just another face to be forgotten as soon as the elf was out of his sight. They reminded him just enough of Sirius to make his heart ache even after all these years. Not only were they steel-grey in colour, they also held a hint of darkness and pain mixed with copious amounts of mischievousness.

A _prankster_ then. Probably.

"Can I help you?" Harry had been in the 'last homely home' for about a week now and though he had got some curious glances here and there, he had not been subjected to blatant staring until now.

The elf grinned and sat down on one of the ornately decorated chairs. The effortless grace he displayed while doing so was, admittedly, a bit annoying.

"I have not been in Imladris for quite a while, so when I came home and heard about a friend of Mithrandir's being our guest, my curiosity was roused," the elf commented smirking and idly unrolled one of the yellowed scrolls. He skimmed the contents, raised a dark eyebrow and took an intrigued look at the stack of books next to Harry, which were mainly about the Valar and the world beyond Middle Earth. "Interesting reading choice."

Harry couldn't help staring. He had met quite a few elves during his research, but none of them had seemed quite at ease as the one in front of him. A lot of them were haughty bastards with a stick up their arse. The exact opposite was comprised of the kind, but usually still reserved elves. And Thandruil... Thandruil was in a class of his own. At least in this world. He wouldn't have been out of place next to the Malfoys, however.

A poke to his forehead pulled the brunet out of his musing.

"I know, I am a handsome fellow and you can't help yourself, but please _do_ try to pay attention."

Harry scowled and rubbed the poor abused spot. Perhaps the elf was a bit _too_ at ease, but his company wasn't entirely unwelcome anyway and the brunet's research wasn't progressing anytime soon. Or ever.

Harry had been in Middle Earth for quite some time now and most of it had been spent in libraries of various races or travelling from place to place. He _may_ have helped – read rescued - a person or two, as well. In the beginning he had been quite determined to find a way back to his friends, his godson and his family of choice, but as the years passed, the continued search for information had been more out of habit and lack of anything else to do than the belief of actually finding something noteworthy. Not even Gandalf, Galadriel or Elrond – beings that had dwelled on Middle Earth for millennia - had a solution for his plight.

_Of course_ he still wanted to see the people he had left behind, but what would happen if he _did_ manage to get back at this point? How many years had passed in the world he had been born into? Was anyone even still alive? What would they think about his lack of aging?

The elf uttered a very dramatic, long-suffering sigh next to him.

"Well, since you seem to be too busy drifting off to appreciate my splendid company and I still have to seek out _ada (father)_, I will come find you another time, _tithen curunír (little wizard)_. Look forward to it!" The still nameless elf flashed him another grin and was gone in the blink of an eye.

Taken by surprise by the abrupt departure, Harry stared at the empty chair for a long while. He hadn't meant to get caught up in his own thoughts, especially when the company was promising, but he was, unfortunately, very adept at brooding.

And now his mind had something new to ponder.

* * *

The next day Harry forwent going to the library. Instead he took his time exploring Imladris – something he hadn't really done before. The blending of stone, water and greenery reminded him uncannily of Hogwarts and its grounds. Not to mention the vibrant magic wafting through the air. It was a soothing place and - though he had seen many beautiful sights during his journey - his favourite by far.

Two hours into his walk through breathtaking gardens and over narrow bridges, the brunet found what appeared to be the archery training ground. It was currently occupied by several elves of either sex, but only two of them had managed to catch his attention.

It had been just this morning during breakfast when Lord Elrond had spoken of his two sons – Elladan and Elrohir -, who had got into the habit of running around with the Dúnedain of the North. He had _not_ mentioned that they were identical twins, however.

One of them stood to the side, watching, while the other was the epitome of concentration – which wasn't surprising, considering his intention of hitting a target that was ridiculously far away, even by elven standards.

Harry stepped a bit closer and couldn't help holding his breath, when the arrow was released. It darted through the air like a Firebolt at its best and finally met the target with a – to him – barely audible thud.

Bull's eye.

The brunet released his breath with a whooshing sound. The keen eyesight of elves was, of course, well-known, but seeing the target didn't automatically mean the arrow had enough drive to reach it, just like spotting the snitch was no guarantee for being able to catch it.

"_Elo muindor (Lo and behold dear brother)_, he ventured out of the library on his own! Do you think it is due to my charming demeanour?"

Harry eyed the approaching elf on the right - the one who had shot the arrow – and snorted softly.

"Maybe it would have been, had I met you before _now_."

Both brothers blinked simultaneously, then shared a _Look_. It wasn't hard to guess, what they thought, though. At first Harry may have been reminded of his godfather due to the colouring, but now his mind conjured up the image of two people who had also liked to indulge in mischief, especially in the form of switching their identities. Few people had been capable of telling them apart.

"Don't look so shocked. I've been friends with identical twins for _years_. I've learned to look for the differences," Harry commented and idly gazed at the barely visible scar on left elf's pointed ear. Neither brother seemed to notice.

"And how do we differ in your eyes?"

The brunet grinned and shook his head.

"Oh, I don't think, I'll tell you. You'll try to trick me again. And _talking about_ _tricking_-" Harry's grin quickly turned into a smirk, when he stepped closer to the twins and twisted their dark wisps of hair around his fingers. "-this is payback."

It would be quite easy to tell them apart, when one twin sported pink hair and the other baby blue.

**_Rule number one: Never try to prank a Maurauder's son._**


End file.
